<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>A(r)mor and Spells by jamwrites</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25558957">A(r)mor and Spells</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamwrites/pseuds/jamwrites'>jamwrites</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Love Simon (2018), Love Victor (TV 2020), Simonverse | Creekwood Series - Becky Albertalli</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Boyfriends, Canon Gay Relationship, Coming Out, Cuddles, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Panic, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Making Out, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, gay idiots</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:00:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,220</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25558957</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamwrites/pseuds/jamwrites</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Victor gets a tour of his new boyfriend Benji's house and proceeds to fall apart. </p><p>**</p><p>“You’re also allowed to kiss me without asking,” Benji mumbled, hand still lingering on Victor’s jaw. Which wasn’t helping, because being touched by Benji was taking up most of Victor’s mental computing power. “I can draw you up a boyfriend contract if you want.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Benjamin "Benji" Campbell/Victor Salazar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>240</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A(r)mor and Spells</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Based off a <a href="http://https://wuhkie.tumblr.com/post/623123361253457920/okay-but-the-first-time-victor-comes-over-to">tumblr post i wrote</a> and then kept thinking about, because I just finished this series and can't stop thinking about these two.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Benji smelled like Mountain Adventure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Normally, when Victor would look at the wall of deodorants while shopping with his mom, he would smirk at the scent names like Pinewood Musk or Camper’s Toolbox. They were ridiculous and over the top and totally just smelled like regular deodorant after the first 30 seconds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But upon stepping into Benji’s house for the first time, something clicked in Victor’s head, an answer to some small puzzle he’d been trying to figure out for months and months—and it was that Benji smelled exactly like a deodorant called Mountain Adventure would smell and being in his house only made it that much more apparent. Everything smelled like Benji here, and it was the best thing Victor had ever experienced. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, Victor? You okay?” Benji was giving him a look. Why was—oh, God, Victor had totally been spacing out. Great. Wonderful. Come over to his boyfriend’s and act like a total goon. Perfect plan, Vic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He coughed and looked heavenward, then down, around. “Yep. I’m good. Great, actually.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you’re blushing. And normally it takes you about .25 seconds to blush when I look at you, but this time you were doing it in, oh, I’d say about .01? Maybe before I even looked.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when Victor met Benji’s eyes, the tease was obvious, and it made him want to crumple, or to bury his hands in Benji’s hair, or to rip his shirt off—which was a very inconvenient thing to want, especially because he wanted it all the time. Like, always. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just, um...it smells nice in here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, well, thanks? I made some bread earlier.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah, definitely always.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The best way to distract himself was to throw 110% of his attention into Benji’s house tour—which didn’t end up being that hard. For one thing, Victor could listen to Benji read a card catalogue (preferably with his head in his lap) and for the other, Benji’s place was </span>
  <em>
    <span>amazing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He lived in this old cottage-y sort of place right next to Creekwood’s biggest park, and his parents kept a massive native plant garden blooming in the front yard through some sort of green-thumb magic Victor had been born without. “My mom’s a botanist at the University,” Benji had explained when Victor had stopped short to stare at the garden. “My dad’s just glad he has an excuse not to mow the lawn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the house was all black-and-white kitchen tile, worn-out armchairs, stacks of books on the staircase, quilts, blankets, empty mugs of tea, and plants on every windowsill. And, of course, it smelled like Benji. Pretty much? Victor never wanted to leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And that’s the laundry room closet, but I’m never going back in there.” Benji was staring at him again. Why was he staring? “Relax, Victor, I was making a joke. Jeez, I thought it was kinda good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had been caught staring at the back of Benji’s head, wondering when he’d get to run his hands through that hair. “What? Oh, I’m sorry. It was, like, a 7 out of 10?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Benji just grinned and rolled his eyes and took a step closer to Victor, gathering up his hands in his with the same fluid motion. The touch sent instant flames racing through every cell in every part of Victor’s body and oh my God, he was holding hands with a boy in the boy’s house, and the boy was looking at him with a molten stare that could probably melt steel, and how, </span>
  <em>
    <span>how </span>
  </em>
  <span>was Benji of all people the person that he got to be with? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Victor,” Benji said, curling his fingers through Victor’s own. “I can practically see your brain overheating. If you want me to back off, I can back off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, a voice in Victor’s head yelled. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t back off. Don’t ever drop my hand, actually, because I’ve pretty much been dreaming of you holding my hand since I saw you flip back your obnoxiously gorgeous hair with it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But all he could get out was: “No thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You manners are impeccable, good sir,” Benji said, grinning even wider, and then he was kissing Victor. Just a quick one, barely a second, just enough time for Victor to register the feel of Benji’s lips sliding into place against his own, the barest hint of warmth from Benji’s breath on his face, the pressure of Benji’s hand on his hip, and then—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ding! </span>
  </em>
  <span>An alert on one of their phones, and—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—the absence of Benji pulling away, one hand slipping into freedom, the other pulling Victor along, who would have followed him anywhere, anywhere. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, I wanna show you my room,” Benji said, pulling his phone from his (extremely well-fitting) jeans pocket and thumbing it open. Victor was content to trail behind and bask in the glow. He still couldn’t get used to it. Even with the time that had gone by since the massive crapstorm that had been Spring Fling, the time spent making up to Mia and making out with Benji, Victor still couldn’t believe the ease with which Benji could just do </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Be so gentle. And warm. And totally, unabashedly...gay. Like it was normal, like he didn’t even care. Of course Victor wanted to spend every waking moment holding Benji, but there was always the slight hiccup, the little hurdle of: </span>
  <em>
    <span>what if somebody’s watching? </span>
  </em>
  <span>That hurdle he had to clear first. It was like he was a gazelle born on the savannah, now living in a zoo who couldn’t get rid of the anxious reflex that had kept him alive his entire life. Except he couldn’t be sure it was useless now. Was it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ahead of him, Benji’s pace slowed ever so slightly as he turned back toward Victor. “Hey look, we made Creeksecrets front page!” He was holding out his phone, glaring screen staring Victor down, and there they were: the Creeksecrets Tumblr page, and on it, a photo of him and Benji walking next to each other in the hall at school. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The headline below it: </span>
  <em>
    <span>CREEKWOOD’S HOTTEST BOYS ONLY HAVE HOTS FOR EACH OTHER!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m surprised the mods had the restraint to wait to post about us this long,” Benji was saying, but his voice seemed a little further away than usual. “With the eyes you make at me in Pre-Calc, it’s not like we’re subtle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were on Creeksecrets. Victor and Benji were on Creeksecrets. That meant...that meant everybody knew. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor felt blood beating on the taught skin behind his right temple. They hadn’t been keeping it hidden, not really. They had agreed on that. He had even come out to Felix, his parents, Mia, Lake, everyone...but then why did being out to </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone </span>
  </em>
  <span>everyone feel different? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it did. Feel different, that was. It was—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—but Benji was opening the door to his room, and there wasn’t any time to have this moment. Instead, Victor sucked in a breath and bit his lip as they pushed through into the place he had only dreamt about getting to see. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bam: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Benji</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If the rest of the house had smelled like Mountain Adventure, this room was like somebody had bottled Victor’s deepest, gayest fantasies and spritzed it around. It was everything Benji exuded but more: more coffee and aftershave and way too much hair product, more of that indescribable boy smell that Victor had discovered several weeks ago when kissing Benji’s neck and now was pretty sure he was addicted to. And everything else in here screamed Benji, too. From the window seat nook to the piles of sweaters on the messy bed to the band posters plastering the walls, old guitars leaning against record players, and the sketchpads and charcoals in varying states between store bought and utter decay: it was Beni incarnate, all of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So...this is it,” Benji said, arms spread wide. “I know it isn’t really that big or super cool, but—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Victor was already shaking his head. “No, don’t apologize. It’s perfect. Do you parents not mind that we’re up here...you know, together?” Because his parents would definitely mind. And people at Creekwood obviously minded, or cared, at least, and were watching them apparently all the time. What was the basketball team saying about Victor ever since he had come out? Aside from Victor’s wrecking Mia’s heart, Andrew had seemed relatively cool with the whole gay aspect of things, but just because Andrew led the team didn’t mean he was its hivemind king.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no,” Benji tossed his hair back and flashed a smile. “My mom isn’t home half the time to notice and with Derek, my dad pretended not to.” The smile turned into a grimace. “Sorry. That sounded super angsty. I promise my home life is pretty much okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Home life can be weird,” Victor said, because it was what he felt. And he needed to say something to quiet his extremely loud thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if he needed more confirmation that </span>
  <em>
    <span>this was his person</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Benji’s face softened into gratitude, of all things. “So weird,” he agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he stripped off his shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor Salazar had never experienced a trainwreck before. Or a car crash or other similar near-death, adrenaline and anxiety-producing event, but he was pretty darn sure that these were the exact chemicals the body would release in that moment to produce this exact feeling. The world dilating, zeroing in on Benji, his skin, and the super-visible muscles rippling beneath (how did he have time to work out so much?), and…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...and his eyes, looking at Victor. Again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Victor stammered as Benji reached for one of the itchy-looking sweaters on his bed. “I didn’t mean—well, I mean, I guess I did mean to...but I wasn't trying to—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Benji had slipped on the sweater and crossed the room, and the gap between them had zeroed down to nothing. His hand cupped Victor’s jaw. “Hey,” he said, and Victor felt the infinite pleasure of Benji’s thumb caressing the soft spot just below his ear. “Hey, you’re my boyfriend, Victor. You’re allowed to see me shirtless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. Oh man. Was he really? Victor had never really thought that one through. Well, he had thought about Benji shirtless about a zillion times after catching that glimpse of him through the changing stall on the work trip. And after that he had thought about...doing things...with Benji shirtless. Of course he had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But even after kissing on that bench outside of Spring Fling and talking through what they wanted (dating, as it turned out. Most positively, 100% dating.), Victor had never let himself consider the possibility, had never let himself open to the hope that he would actually get to just...be with Benji. Especially in situations like this. Because if he hoped, hoped for more than stollen, fleeting looks snatched in private stalls? That would have just opened himself to more hurt. And in the days when he knew what he wanted but was still trying not to shatter Mia’s heart, Victor hadn’t been sure of how much more hurt and torment he could take. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now here Benji was, giving him the key to all of the things Victor had previously told himself he was okay with being out of reach. Chief among them, getting to see his boyfriend shirtless. For as long as he wanted. And maybe more than that, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um. Okay,” Victor said, forcing the words from his throat that had gone dryer than it had ever been. “Can I, like, is it okay to—” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And why? Why was this all so hard? All of the time? Why couldn’t Victor just be </span>
  <em>
    <span>easy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, like Benji was?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re also allowed to kiss me without asking,” Benji mumbled, hand still lingering on Victor’s jaw. Which wasn’t helping, because being touched by Benji was taking up most of Victor’s mental computing power. “I can draw you up a boyfriend contract if you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That smile. Flashing across Benji’s face like the sun after a summer rain. If he had been any weaker in the knees than he already was, Victor probably would have fainted right then and there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he managed to cough. “Yeah. That might be nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll get right on it,” Benji said, but this time it was Victor who closed the gap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He threaded his fingers through the back of Benji’s hair and tugged him gently, closer, opening his mouth just a little bit like he had been practicing and—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every time. Every single time kissing Benji topped the last one, and every time Victor wondered how he would ever manage to stop kissing Benji without going insane. He just...made everything better. The warmth of his mouth against Victor’s, the sweetness of his tongue (they had graduated to using tongue after some coaching, and Victor had not regretted a single second since), the moments that Benji had to break off kissing just so he could smile into Victor’s cheek, lean his forehead against Victor’s neck like it was all too much for him, as if Victor was the catch here instead of Benji. Because how could Victor be the one that Benji had fallen for? Victor, who couldn’t even bring himself to hold Benji’s hand in school? Victor, who was shorter, skinnier, paralyzed by the thought of bringing Benji home to his parents? Benji had been joking about a boyfriend contract, but if something like that really did exist, Benji would have had to sign off on only getting half a boyfriend. Just Victor, and nothing else. No world to share him with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just Victor, and his shame. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Victor?” Benji was pulling away, why was he pulling away? “Victor, hey, what’s wrong? And don’t tell me nothing’s wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t speak. Not with Benji holding his face like this, staring at him like he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. It wasn’t right. He didn’t deserve this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And still, still Benji wasn’t looking away. “Victor, hey, don’t do that. Don’t shut down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, like he was coaxing a stray dog with food, Benji led Victor to his bed and sat him down. Victor let him, staring at the basketball calluses on his hands. How could he possibly put this into words?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If this is about being alone in here and it’s too much or too early—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s not about your room.” Even though it killed him, Victor pulled his hands out of Benji’s. “It’s just...I just...Benji, I haven’t introduced you to my parents.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I’ve met your parents. They’re lovely, Victor.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I mean, as my...you know, I haven’t introduced you to them as my boyfriend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benji’s face scrunched, then smoothed again. “Oh. Well, I’d love to. You and I could make them dinner sometime.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I mean yes, that would be great. But I mean, you haven’t met my parents, because…” Victor sucked in a breath and looked at the posters of shirtless guys singing or playing guitar taped to the ceiling, then sighed and flopped over into Benji’s bed and immediately regretted it. The sheets and pillows were spun from that pure boy smell and he swore he was going to dream about it tonight if he ever got through this. “Do you feel like you’re dating me?” He mumbled it into the pillow, hoping Benji wouldn’t hear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But of course he did. “Um, I sincerely hope I’m dating you. Otherwise we have some major communication issues going on here.” A beat. “Victor, I’ll tell you as many times as you’ll let me: you’re my boyfriend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Victor peeled himself off the pillow but clutched it to his chest for support. “Because I never let you kiss me after class. I don’t wear your t-shirts. At work, I take separate lunch breaks. We haven’t changed our Facebook statuses, I don’t post things about you on Insta, and...and you haven’t met my parents.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t until Victor accidentally imagined the way his father would react, the falling look on his face, that he realized he was crying. Because how, realistically, would he welcome Benji? With teeth-gritting and too-firm handshakes and seething heat lurking underneath a thin surface? What about his mother, who would be quiet and passive-aggressive, shutting Benji’s jokes and goofiness, emitting nothing but glacial cold? How would the people at school snigger at them if Victor pulled Benji aside and kissed him at his locker? What was everyone writing in the replies to their photo on Tumblr at this very second? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Imagining all of their hatred pushed Victor’s lungs down until breathing became nearly impossible, and he knew he was holding the pillow too hard but couldn’t seem to let go. When he talked it wasn’t even to Benji but himself, spiralling in a word vomit he had no control over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And now we’re on Creeksecrets, and everyone on there’s going to make fun of us because that’s what Creeksecrets is for, and— ”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it was too much. If Benji saw Victor have some sort of meltdown he was going to see through him entirely, realize what a weirdo he’d been dating and probably call the whole thing off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, like always, the only thing Victor’s coward body could think of to do was run. Before he was even aware of the decision his legs were carrying out the door and across the hall and into the lovely little bathroom Benji had shown him, closing the door too-hard shut behind him in a sound that felt like retreat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>**</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, I’m going to have to pee eventually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benji’s voice floated through the door at Victor’s ear level, which was odd, because he was currently sitting on the floor with his back pressed up against the door like it would protect him. Which meant that Benji was sitting on the other side of the door. Which meant he had known that’s exactly what Victor would be doing. How well did Benji know him already? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor sucked in a breath, tried to release even a single thought from the stickiness in his head and failed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence, then: “Victor, you told me that Simon Spier himself coached you through coming out, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Well, I’m sure he’s also told you by now that Creeksecrets is a load of shit. He of all people should know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not helping, Benji.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But, it’s populated by the occasional glimmer of light. After Simon Spier came out, a bunch of people posted really personal, heavy stuff on there. It was like the whole school called a truce for a couple of weeks—and for those few weeks, the Tumblr was actually kind of a cool place to be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You get really poetic when you’re worked up. And you’re not making any sense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s how I write songs. And I’m worked up because seeing you upset about this stupid Creeksecrets thing gets me worked up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How did he explain this to Benji? How could Benji, who’d been out for so long, understand? “It’s not stupid, though. Not to me, you know? If everyone knows who I am, then…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All this time, you could tell yourself that if people didn’t like you, it was okay, because they were liking a version of you that wasn’t real. But if they judge you now, it’ll be for keeps.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually...yes. That’s kind of exactly it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Benji laughed a dry laugh on the other side of the door. “Yeah. But the thing is, Victor, the people who love you can love the whole you now, not just a fragment or version of you. And if they don’t like you, then they weren’t really your friends before; at least this way you know for sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if I don’t know who that me is, though? How do I figure out how to not flinch when my own boyfriend wants to kiss me? What if I’ve been pushing who I am down for so long that I just…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For some horrible reason, Victor felt himself begin to cry. The hotness of the tears came on so fast he had no warning before they were sliding down his cheeks, and when he tried to clear his throat he emitted a choking hiccup instead. Worse, once it started, he had no power to turn it off. It came from some deep place inside of him, these tears; it was a well that he had been boarding up for years and now had accidentally put his foot through, discovered that all the nails and rotting wood he’d used to seal it off weren’t enough and were only letting the water collect faster. Because what if whoever Victor was supposed to be was dead? What if he’d ingrained the anxiousness so deep into himself that he’d never have Benji’s easiness? What if, no matter how much it turned him on, every time Victor kissed a boy he’d feel the primal need to look over his shoulder while doing it? What if he’d lost the ability to allow himself to wear Benji’s jacket or plan surprise dates or help him cook dinner for his parents? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor felt himself shift off-balance for a moment, and then something warm was tugging him into a softer surface than the door—it was Benji, wrapped his arms around Victor from behind and tugging him into his lap and chst, resting his chin on Victor’s shoulder and letting Victor bury his head in Benji’s arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The person you are, who you really are, isn’t gone, Victor,” Benji mumbled into Victor’s neck. “I’ve been watching him ever since he spilled steamed milk all over me. He was hard to see at first, but the more time I spent around you, the more of you I saw shining through your armor. And the Victor I’ve been watching is kind and and dorky and selfless to a fault. He’s the most compassionate, considerate person I know. And he is way, way too strong to let a straight-acting ghost try to kill him, let alone succeed. That’s the Victor I’ve been falling for. That’s the Victor I’m holding right now.”</span>
</p><p><span>The last sentence hit him like a freight train: “You’re falling for me?”</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>“I just made a whole gigantic beautiful speech, and that’s what you take away?” </span></p><p>
  <span>“I mean…” Victor wiped some snot off his nose, then twisted awkwardly in Benji’s lap to sort-of face him. He was still crying, but at least he could talk a little through these tears. “I just didn’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, I’ve just been having dreams about you every other night because I’m into Pilar. Of course I’m falling for you, Victor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Here: right here, Victor felt that hesitancy, that urge to pull back and shut down the feelings that were bubbling within him, to push them away and be safe. Nobody could hurt him that way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But if he shut this moment down, he’d shut down any possibility of Benji, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that was something Victor was no longer willing to accept. He saw the moment approaching. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, he rose to meet it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He carefully threaded his fingers through Benji’s, wiped his face with his free hand. “I’ve been falling for you too. Like, for a long time. And really hard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oof, you have a crush on me? That’s super embarrassing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like, the biggest crush. Shut up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The canine-heavy smile on Benji’s face was the warmest flush of summer Victor had ever earned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have something to show you.” Benji shifted slightly and dug around in his pocket until he produced his phone, already open to the Tumblr app. He scrolled for a minute before he found the post about the two of them and then tapped on the notes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Benji, I—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just look. It’ll be okay. I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Victor gingerly accepted the phone. And yet? For all the fear trembling in his throat, another part of him wanted to jut out his chin at the comments in the notes. If he had built an armor of fake-straightness around himself for however many years, surely he was practiced enough at forging to build himself another set, a suit that would protect him from the real world. And with a knight like Benji at his side? How could he possibly lose?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So when Victor tapped on the notes, his heart seized. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He read the first comment. The second. The caption on the reblog, then the reblog of that, and the comment after that…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>these two are going to be the death of me omfg LOOK AT THEM</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>when the hottest guy in ur chem class plays for ur team but u cant even be mad bc him and his bf are fucking goals</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Damn I’m not even gay but like these guys have more game than I ever will</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>SIMON SPIERS WIG IS ON THE OTHER SIDE OF GEORGIA</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>the new kid rlly moved here and said he was gonna give the gays everything they wanted</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I am once again asking for your support in not crying every time these boys walk past me</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And on and on, nearly 500 notes even though it had just been posted that afternoon. Every comment, every reblog, every tag in every version of the post was Creekwood students and random Tumblr users alike pouring out their hearts for him and Benji. They were apparently swiftly becoming a new meme format because, in the post’s photo, Benji was gazing adoringly at Victor, who was blushing and looking away, his face slightly blurred. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which, wow. Victor hadn’t even known Benji looked at him like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“People can, on occasion, not be terrible.” Benji tapped a small drumbeat on Victor’s knee as he scrolled. “And even if they were, or will be—because some people definitely will be—it doesn’t matter, Victor. The fact that you’re here right now means you’ve already beaten them; all the rest is just...bonus points.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were happy for him. His classmates, the people Victor had been scared of this entire time, they were amplifying this post, not firebombing it. That feeling was something that was going to take him a while to process. All these last few months, Victor had imagined having to fight the world tooth and nail to get even an inch of ground once he came out. The notion that it might give him any amount of leeway, even encouragement? That was beyond anything he had been expecting. Or needed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because he didn’t need it, not really; not with Benji backing him up. Maybe Victor wouldn’t feel the need to protect himself from the monsters in the wild if he didn’t fear them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe he didn’t need armor if he wasn’t worried about the fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That barest sliver of confidence itself tasted like pure joy—but first, he felt a niggling frown growing within him at Benji’s comment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s not a bonus.” Victor set the phone down in Benji’s lap and looked at him. “You’re like, the most over-the-top romantic person I know. You recreated your entire first date for Derek. Doing all of these things together, that’s not extra, it’s important. They don’t get to take that away from you. Or us. Or me. Because I want that. I really do. And I’m going to start fighting for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now Benji’s grin was heart-splittingly wide, and he was gazing at Victor with an incalculable expression behind his eyes. “You were the one who came up with the date recreation idea,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing. I’ll tell later, you gigantic dork.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And this, this right here was the person Victor wanted to become, the guy he turned into when Benji was around. The guy that Benji had seen even when Victor hadn’t. Who knew what that guy was capable of? There was a whole world, a whole aspect of life that Victor had never experienced before—what kind of boyfriend would he be? What hopelessly romantic gestures would he get to plan now that he had the chance? He had no idea, but honestly, his mind was humming with ideas and energy at the opportunity to find out. It was one that would carry them both through any sneers or worse thrown at them in Creekwood’s hallways. It was an energy that could temper his father’s heat and insulate Benji from his mother’s cold, if it came to that. Maybe it wouldn’t, but either way, Victor wasn’t going to let the chance to find out slip away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was also an energy that desperately needed to kiss Benji.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, it was Victor who seemingly caught Benji off guard and he relished Benji’s little grunt of surprise, his pillow lips softening into Victor’s, his smile tugging upwards at Victor’s mouth. Victor was still sort of awkwardly positioned in Benji’s lap, their legs tangled and messy, but he didn’t care. He sat up and cupped Benji’s jaw with both his hands and kissed him harder. An electric high surged from every neuron and every part of him that touched any part of Benji in a positive feedback loop that only made him want more. It had never been like this with Mia. Sure, kissing had been nice, because being close to another human was nice, but this was...something else entirely. This was a different well inside Victor. An untapped one. There was one in Benji, too, and Victor wanted to see how deep it went. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow, some time later, they ended up with Benji on his back and Victor over him, kissing with the force of gravity and his desire that several weeks of dating had done nothing to dampen, pressing Benji into Benji’s bed with kisses that surged like ocean waves, pushing and pulling, breath of air followed by deep dive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when he finally found the strength to pull away, panting, his arms framing Benji’s face, it was all he could do to not instantly kiss him again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So now that you gave me a tour of your house,” Victor said, supremely distracted by Benji’s hand slowly running up and down Victor’s ribs. “Do you want to come to mine tomorrow?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tomorrow?” Benji’s bewilderment was genuine, but not bad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, tomorrow. I want to cook dinner with my boyfriend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t feel easy, exactly, but saying the words “my boyfriend” was a spell, like if Victor kept saying it, he’d just keep getting more powerful, and Benji’s bewilderment melting into the inscrutable expression was all the reassurance Victor needed. It was the same expression in the photo of them on Creeksecrets, only deeper, somehow, full of some meaning Victor couldn’t fully parse yet. Or maybe he sort of could, and the prospect of what it meant was deeply terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, tomorrow can work,” Benji said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had all the time in the world to figure that expression out later. Right now, there was a hand on his ribs that belonged to the boy he was falling for, and Victor wanted to return the gesture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, he didn’t look over his shoulder when he did. The only thing he saw was Benji, his boyfriend, and the color rising to his cheeks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>My boyfriend</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Victor thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>My boyfriend. My boyfriend. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A powerful spell indeed. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>